


Pretty, Pretty Eyes

by icedcoffeebee



Series: Right Where I Need You [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Also Sapnap calls Karl baby so like that's kinda not platonic, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Western, But it has romantic undertones, Can be read platonically I guess, Karl is still confused, Light Angst, M/M, Sapnap is Mason, Wild West Standoffs, time traveler karl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedcoffeebee/pseuds/icedcoffeebee
Summary: Karl is traveling again, this time to the wild west. He encounters a number of people, including a bandit who should probably scare him a little bit more than he does. Karl knows him from somewhere, heknowsthat he knows him, but he can’t remember.What’s new about that though?
Relationships: Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: Right Where I Need You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191893
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98





	Pretty, Pretty Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> My thought process is, as long as it’s uploaded before the next Tales starts, it counts, right? I’m not late?

Just like always, Karl somehow found himself back in that godforsaken library. It always happened, like clockwork he always came back. It was almost funny at this point, how he could forget everyone and everything important to him because of that library, but he still kept going back. At this point, a love-hate relationship was too kind of a description for the library. His ambivalence towards the winding shelves full of classic stories kept him coming back to solve its mystery no matter how much he begged himself to stay away.

That damn library was causing a war in his head, forcing him to fight against himself and everything he’d ever known. The people around him were slipping away, replaced with new stories of those he’d never meet again. And he couldn’t even stop it.

Karl couldn’t stop himself from picking up the new book on its podium, _The Wild West_ , it read. Beautiful golden calligraphy on smooth brown leather. It was deceivingly beautiful. The covers of the books always looked so nice, so serene, but the stories inside were anything but.

The stories inside caused pain, caused fear. They made Karl forget who he was and who loved him, who he loved. The stories inside were _hellish_ , as far as Karl was concerned.

But he swallowed his fear and cracked the spine of the book, thumbed over the pages and flipped through them. Blank as always, except for the first one. He began to read aloud, his eyes got heavy and his head spinning like it always did when he did this. God, does he hate that feeling.

Karl opened his eyes slowly, his head still spinning as he reached up to run a hand through his hair. He found himself in a mineshaft, a clear light coming from the tunnel up ahead. 

_Only one way to go, I guess._

He stood in the middle of a small town, unsure of where to go until he heard a ruckus at a nearby pub. He hesitantly pushed open the gates and was met with bandits screaming at what looked like the poor bartender. Karl scanned the room, his eye catching on one in particular. Unruly black hair was tucked under his hat and fiery eyes met Karl's, a smirk plastered on his face as he walked over. The stranger tilted his hat back, more of the raven locks escaping.

“And who the hell are you?” He stopped mere inches before Karl, leaning so close he could feel his breath. 

Karl cleared his throat. “‘M just passing through. Heard some noise in here and came to check it out, see if anyone was hurt.”

“Well ain’t that noble?” The stranger taunted. “As y’can see, no one’s hurt, and we’re all alive ‘n well. I believe that means it’s your time to go, good sir.” 

How this man can maintain eye contact so well, Karl doesn’t know. What he does know is that the longer he participates in the staring contest, the more he feels like he knows him.

“What’s your name?” He blurted out, not thinking.

The man’s smirk disappears, replaced by a scowl. “Now what could you possibly need my name for?”

“Just… Trying to make some friends, is all,” Karl hesitated. 

Another one of the men spoke up, laughing loudly. “We ain’t the type to make friends, buddy. In fact, I’m already gettin’ a lil sick of ya, how about you boys?” He stepped in between Karl and the black haired man, who maintained his gaze on Karl. 

“All I’m asking is your names,” Karl shrugged. “It can’t be that bad to just tell me, unless you’ve got something to hide. Or… you’re scared?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Now do I look like the type to be scared by some sorta fancy newcomer?” The new man raised his voice. “Name’s Jack Kanoff, I ain’t afraid to tell ya that. Wanna make it worth my while and share yours now?”

“I’m Karl.”

“Well, Karl,” the black haired man spoke again. “My name’s Mason, and I don’t really take too kindly to newcomers like yourself tryna’ tell me what I can and can’t do in _my_ damn town.”

Karl furrowed his brow, staring at the stranger— Mason. “ _Your_ town? I don’t think that’s right.”

Apparently, Karl struck a nerve, because before he could speak again, he was face to face with Mason, with fingers wrapped around his chin forcing him to look into the man’s eyes. He leaned down, a scowl growing on his face. “I don’t think you know a thing about what goes on in this town, _Karl_ , so it’d be in your best interest to keep that to yourself, now wouldn’t it?”

Karl gulped. He knew that he should feel intimidated, scared even, but something about the warmth radiating off of the other man felt safe, home-like. Karl couldn’t be afraid if he tried.

“I might know more than you think I do.”

“That’s it,” Mason released his grip on Karl’s face, shoving him away. “I’m done here. Jack, Connor, are we good to go?”

The other men nodded, walking out of the bar one by one. Mason lingered for a moment, meeting Karl’s eyes again before he left. Karl stood in the same place he had been when he was mere inches away from Mason’s face, his brain scrambling to process what had happened.

He finally collected himself to face the bartender, who introduced himself as John, and started to gather information. He talked with John for a while, but his mind kept wandering back to Mason and how familiar he felt. Karl felt like he had looked into his eyes a million times, but he had just met him.

“Karl, is it? Are you alright?” John’s voice pulled him out of his head, clouded with thoughts of Mason and questions of where he’d met him before. A previous? His current life, maybe? The lines were so blurred between the two at this point it was hard to tell which was which and who was from where.

Karl shook the thoughts away, closing his eyes and nodding. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Let’s go check out the rest of town like you said. I’d love to meet anyone who’ll help us with those bandits.”

Karl followed John around the small town, visiting the empty church and the bank first. He met the banker, Percy, and his beloved pet bee. The three made their way to the jail to meet Sheriff Sherman and his prisoner, then to the post office and town shop to complete their team.

A team of seven seemed to be more than enough to handle the bandits, but Karl was practically useless in his current state. He couldn’t focus on a plan, only on the fiery brown eyes that planted themselves in his mind, clouding over everything else.

_Who is he?_

“Karl,” the sheriff’s monotone drawl startled him. “We need weapons. Shall we head back down to the station, or you got somethin’ else in mind?”

“Um,” Karl pushed his hair out of his eyes. “The station’s good. We can target practice there too, we have to take them out in one shot if we want to beat them.”

The sheriff nodded, fixing his hat and nodding towards the way of the station. “Follow me, folks.”

Karl hung back from the group, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and trying to rid his mind of thoughts about the oddly familiar bandit.

“Is there, uh, somethin’ on your mind?” John laid a hand on Karl’s shoulder, so gentle he almost didn’t feel it.

“Huh?” Karl snapped his head up to meet John’s eyes, colors still clouding his vision from rubbing his eyes moments before. “Yeah, no, I’m okay. Just… tryin’ to come up with a plan,” Karl smiled.

John nodded, “Good thinkin’, havin’ a rough idea that we can all work on together later! We’ve got this, Karl. Don’t worry ‘bout it too much, okay?” Karl nodded again as John split off from him, catching up to the main group. He was trying to come up with a plan, but it wasn’t to deal with the bandits. It was to figure out the almost magnetic feelings he felt towards Mason.

Karl and the sheriff taught everyone the proper way to use the weapons they found before they decided to set up a campfire and come up with a plan.

“It’s obvious,” Karl began, “that the sheriff is one of the more experienced of us with a weapon. I vote that he goes up first against the bandits, anyone disagree?” The men shook their heads, looking at the sheriff for confirmation. 

“I do believe I can handle that just fine.”

“Okay, so that’s settled. John, if you’re okay with it, I’d like for you to go against one of them at some point. I feel like it’s only fitting, after everything they’ve caused you, you should get your moment of power over them,” Karl smiled at the bartender, someone he’d become oddly attached to. “Does that sound okay?”

John hesitated. “Are… Are you sure, Karl? There are way better shots here than me,” he laughed, lifting a shaky hand to the back of his neck.

Karl shook his head. “You’ve earned it. How do you feel about going against the third bandit?”

“If no one else has any objections, I… I guess that’s alright.”

“Perfect. Now we just need a second.”

“I’d like to take a shot,” the prisoner, Crops, spoke up. “It ain’t fair that I’ve been in jail this whole time while these madmen got to run around as they please.”

Karl’s eyes widened, looking at the sheriff. “Is… Is that okay?”

Sheriff Sherman shrugged, half-checked out of the conversation. “He’s on his free time right now, I can’t stop him.”

“Okay then,” Karl spoke a bit hesitantly. “Crops will go second. We can do this, guys. Those bandits have terrorized y’all’s town too long, it’s time that we—”

“Time that you do what, sweetheart,” Karl froze at a voice behind him, whipping his head around to see the same black hair and fiery eyes that had been haunting his thoughts all day.

_Why can’t I place where I know him?_

“Mason. Jack, Connor. We’ve been waiting for you guys,” Karl sighed, throwing on his fake confidence and crossing his arms.

The bandits stood in a triangular formation, Mason in the center with his arms crossed and that same _stupid_ smirk on his face. The stupid smirk that looked so familiar, fond even. 

“So, are we gonna stand here in a starin’ contest, or are we gonna get to it?” Mason grinned, pulling his gun from its holster and spinning it around his finger by the trigger.

Karl huffed. “Sheriff, you good to go?” 

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. These damn bandits been evadin’ me for years now, I’ve dreamed of this.”

Karl watches Mason’s smirk disappear, replaced by the slightest concern as the sheriff and Connor stood back to back. Karl counts, glancing over at Mason every other pace, making eye contact for a brief moment before he looks back at the sheriff.

“Three, two… One!” A gunshot rings out in the empty town, and the softest thud could be heard as Connor’s body hit the ground. Mason’s confidence falters, and he looks at Karl in concern. He looked… softer. 

Karl shook his head, breaking their eye contact and looking back at Connor’s body, now dragged to the side by Jack, who was now standing in his previous place. Crops took his place alongside Jack, allowing Karl to begin his countdown again.

Just like last time, there was a glance in Mason’s direction every other pace, and Karl tripped over his words.

“F-four, three, two…” 

Before Karl can finish his count, the gun blasts and Jack falls to the ground, Crops standing at the other end of the line with dark eyes and a smoking gun.

“That ain’t fair!” Mason bellowed, staring straight at Karl.

“The hell you want, a rematch? The man’s dead!” Sheriff Sherman scoffed, watching Crops begin to drag Jack’s body away for the next round. Mason grumbled something about rules, taking his place where Jack once stood. Karl watched as John stood back to back, his nerves on fire. 

He knew he should be rooting for John, he should want his friend to kill the bandit who had terrorized the town for years, but he almost didn’t want Mason to get hurt. He couldn’t choose a side.

“Karl,” Percy nudged his shoulder. “The count?”

“R-right. Sorry,” Karl cleared his throat. He started counting down from ten, watching Mason’s stiff steps.

“Three, two, one!”

Karl’s heart sank as the gun fired and John fell in seconds.

“One down,” Mason laughed. “Six to go. Who’s next, fellas?”

The group bickered for a moment, the sheriff nominating Crops again while the postman argued about wanting a shot. The shop owner was just about to step in before Karl did it himself. He rushed down the hill to meet Mason on the open stretch they used for the standoffs.

“I am.”

“Just who I wanted,” Mason grinned. He leaned closer, as close as they had been hours earlier in the tavern. “I can’t wait to see the life leave your pretty, pretty eyes, Karl.”

“I bet you can’t,” Karl whispered. He was staring at those fiery amber brown irises again, pulling out every memory he had to recognize them. Nothing matched.

Karl took a breath, turning his back to Mason and standing right beside him. The sheriff started counting.

 _Ten_. Karl stared at his shoes.

 _Nine_. He watched the dust kick up around him when he took a step.

 _Eight_. He heard Mason sigh behind him.

 _Seven_. He felt the wind picking up.

 _Six_. He gripped the cool metal in his hand.

 _Five_. He took a shaky breath.

 _Four_. Karl saw fiery eyes in his head.

 _Three_. Black hair.

 _Two_. A smirk.

 _One_. 

_Sapnap._

Karl didn’t have any more time to think right now, all he could do was turn and pull the trigger. He couldn’t die in another timeline, he didn’t know what would happen if he did. And to be quite honest, he didn’t want to find out. He had too much to lose.

He watched Mason fall. Karl won.

Then it hit him: Mason reminded him of Sapnap. He had basically just shot his fiancé in an old western standoff. The others celebrated the death of the bandits that had caused them trouble for years, but Karl stood staring at Mason.

It made sense now, why Karl never felt any fear, not even when Mason tried his best to be threatening. He could never be afraid of Sapnap. He took one last glance at Mason’s body in the dirt, the fire in his eyes gone and replaced with a dull brown. 

Karl said his goodbyes to the others, tears welling up as he made his way back to the mineshaft he’d started in. All he could think of was Sapnap and Mason. How they looked so similar, how he could almost see Sapnap on the ground, bullet in his heart.

_God, he wanted to go home._

Karl sat on the ground, leaning against one of the walls of the mineshaft and pulling the book out of his bag, cracking it open to the last page and reading the words aloud. He waited for that same, uncomfortable feeling as always, somehow familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, and let his eyes close. 

He knew the drill. Eyes closed, deep breaths, welcome home. As always, he found himself back in his secret library. He placed the book on its stand, wiping at the tears in his eyes as it opened itself to the title page. He tossed the messenger bag on the floor and left the secret room, again slumping against the bookshelves to collect himself before going any further.

He leaned his head back against the shelves, closing his eyes to be met with the same face he’d watched fall to the ground earlier, dull eyes still open and staring back at him. Karl felt the tears streaming down his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He just kept them screwed shut, the image of Sapnap motionless on the ground painted in his mind.

He didn’t hear Sapnap outside calling his name. He didn’t hear anything until the door squealed open and his head snapped up to meet Sapnap’s eyes. Those fiery brown eyes.

“Karl? What’s the matter?”

He couldn’t tell him. “Just tired.”

“Baby… you’re crying,” Sapnap kneeled next to him, hesitating before pulling him into a hug. 

“I… read a sad book?”

Sapnap pulled back, his expression alone enough to tell Karl that he saw right through him. Karl held his eyes, shook his head just enough to be noticeable. Sapnap sighed and stood up before helping Karl up as well. He laced their fingers together, tugging Karl gently to the door of the library.

“You’ve been reading a lot of stuff lately. It never seems to make you very happy.”

“It doesn’t,” Karl sighed. “But it’s okay. You always end up right where I need you.”

Sapnap smiled. “I’ll always be there.”

Karl nodded, meeting his eyes again. “You always are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Karlnap brain go brrrrr.
> 
> No but for real there was so little Karlnap content in this Tales like holy shit. I did what I could, but I’m out here trying to make a whole cake out of some crumbs, so do with it what you will.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for updates on stories and also random shit idk @c0dename_bee ! <3


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